This special writer, commenting upon the Wilson policy, had said:
Mr. Wilson's patience, now derided and criticized, will inevitably be the means by which he will lead his people by easy stages to the side of the Allies. By his methods of patience and apparent subservience to Germany, he will convince the whole American people that no other course save war is possible. This policy of Wilson's, now determined on, will work a complete transformation in his people. It will not evidence itself quickly or overnight. The moral preachment of Wilson before and after war will be the cause that will finally bring his people to the side of the Allies.
Again turning to me, the President said: "Our course from this time on is clear. The whole business of war that we are now engaged upon is fraught with the gravest difficulties. There will be great enthusiasm in the country from this day. I trust it will not slacken or weaken as the horrors of the war and its tragedies are disclosed. Of course our motives will be misconstrued, our purposes misunderstood; some of our best friends will misinterpret what we seek to do. In carrying on the war we will be obliged to do certain unusual things, things that will interfere with the lives and habits of our people, which will bring down upon us a storm of criticism and ridicule. Our life, therefore, until this thing is over, and God only knows when it will be over, will be full of tragedy and heartaches."
As he spoke, he was no longer Woodrow Wilson, the protagonist of peace, but Woodrow Wilson, the stern warrior, now grimly determined to pursue the great cause of America to the end.
The President continued talking to me. He said: "It has not been easy to carry these burdens in these trying times. From the beginning I saw the utter futility of neutrality, the disappointment and heartaches that would flow from its announcement, but we had to stand by our traditional policy of steering clear of European embroilments. While I have appeared to be indifferent to the criticism which has been my portion during these critical days, a few have tried to understand my purpose and have sympathized throughout with what I sought to do."
Then, as he lowered his voice, he said: "There is a fine chap in Springfield, Massachusetts, editor of a great paper there, who understood my position from the beginning and who has sympathized with me throughout this whole business." For a moment he, paused, and then went on: "I want to read you the letter I received from this fine man." As he read, the emotion he felt at the tender sympathy which the words conveyed gripped him. The letter is as follows:
Springfield, Massachusetts,
March 28, 1917.
MY DEAR MR. PRESIDENT:
In acknowledging your very kind and appreciative note of March 22nd, I must say at once that the note has given me the greatest possible pleasure. I prize this word from you all the more because after the political experience and conflicts of the past few years, I am conscious of a very real yet peculiar feeling of having summered and wintered with you, in spite of the immeasurable and rather awful distance that separates our respective places in the life and work of our time. Your note, for the moment, suddenly annihilates the distance and brings to me what I recognize as a very human touch.
There is summering and wintering to come,—with more wintering perhaps than we shall enjoy;—even so, I shall hope to be of timely service, as opportunity favours me.